Chapter 501 – Third Of All, Stop Being This Stupid Or I Swear I’ll Turn This War Around Right Now (Patreon)

Wowie I'm so tireeed!

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A senior member of the Division of Divination has left their post. This means heightened security and vigilance, but also means opportunity. Move the shadowcat into position, and keep the missing man on call for immediate relocation if need be. I’ll provide the transportation. Activate the dead Oracles, make sure that there’s some added chaos in the pools, and maintain focus on the Breach. This is a singular event, as this particular Oracle has not left the management and Oracular Pools in nearly three centuries, and never so abruptly. Much is in chaos, and chaos is something we can exploit. 

–Hidden message delivered via spatial warping and transubstantiation, bearing the mark of the Bull

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“No! Stop it! Sit!”

That was the wrong thing to say, unfortunately. Telling a bunch of super-beasts that have spent the last few millenia getting everything they want or murdering their way through anyone who disagrees to “sit” does not, in fact, inspire the desired result. 

The giant sky-snake screeches so loud that it threatens to destabilize the entire mental space, its shadow briefly manifesting to consume all beneath it, its infinite stolen arms spasming hungrily.

The big cat-dog-neither thing in the corner snickers, just loud enough and animalistically enough to be mistaken for a normal animal sound, which only pisses the big fucker off more. In its thrashings, the sky-snake whips part of its body one way, almost slapping the mental body of the tiger.

That, of course, only sets the big fucking feline off. 

Snakes and tigers. Why is it always snakes and tigers causing problems?

“Can we please–”

Please was also not the right word to use. 

In the corner, a shimmering orb made of an infinite number of faces and features emits a droning sound, registering mostly on higher decibels, making multiple of the creatures before Raika flinch and snarl at it.

Let Others Speak.

Many-Mouths, ever the voice of reason, shines as the little orb of loveliness that it is, its form here a more adorable version of the mile-wide floating impossibility that it actually manifests as. It takes the brunt of the other’s annoyance, because none of the others would go so far as to threaten it. 

Many-Mouths literally is the environment that they all live in, or so entwined with it that the difference is effectively meaningless. Sure, all of the Apexes are large enough that they could go for a few centuries without eating, but who would want to? And Many-Mouths is much less killable than them, because its core self, the Heart of it, is better hidden than any of the other pack-members around the table. 

Though still, it’s only the second least killable member of their party. 

Po shrugs at Raika’s annoyance, giving her a “what do you expect?” sort of look. He’s still wearing Seo En-Hyun’s face, though a bit of a slimmer version of it, with only one skull-face instead of the crown of three, and the ghost-muscles have shrunken quite a bit. He’s more of a shadow of a shadow than Seo En-hyun ever was, but that’s the nature of a thing beyond Death, which has grown to become END. 

The Corpse Martyr sits idly, his not-face annoyed but unsurprised at the antics of the others. “Junior sister, you can’t expect everyone to simply sit by and do nothing, can you? After such a drastic movement on your part, how could we not be eager to advance?”

“My moving and the start of the war aren’t intrinsically the same,” she sighs. “Seriously, the lot of you, what’s one more year? Or two? Or ten? It’s not the end of the world yet, assholes, we have time.”

Not One More Minute With These Assholes, comes a wave of Intent from the tiger, which is not a tiger but sure does look like a tiger in this mental space. It looks like a tiger’s tiger, the purest foundation of a tiger, its claws too sharp to touch, its teeth capable of tearing through any prey, its fur a perfect illusion, invisible in the wilderness. It is also looking profoundly annoyed at the other members of the mental space they’re in. 

Raika takes in a metaphorical breath, annoyed at herself for having to deal with this. One by one, she looks around the room at the bundle of pantheon-defining superbeings that surround her here, running through what she knows of each of them.

In the formless void sit the eight heads of the Pack. 

The ghost shell of the Corpse Martyr, first disciple of the END. 

The impossible orb-like shape of Many-Mouths, the Heart of the world that still lives. 

The false dragon. The shadow that consumes. Many-limbed heaven-god, who is worshipped by those that are spared of its voracious and neverending, mindless hunger. The Sky-Eater.

A woman with skin of palest cream and hair of purest rose, sitting upon a cushion of finest, softest furs, so stunningly attractive that it seems to bend space. The Final Fox, she calls herself, though she deigns to respond to Ayaka. 

A chicken, which looks like a chicken, and acts like a chicken, and also makes most of the other beasts in the room sit up and take notice whenever it shifts in even the slightest way. A hen of beautiful red plumage, which Raika has only heard being referred to as “PB”.

A turtle, which does not look or act like a turtle, which soundlessly opens and closes its mouth. A mountain and forest and continent, all at once, shaped vaguely like a turtle but entirely non-biological, made to look like a mossy-shelled ancient, and which moves in such a way that it seems to always be where it wishes to be, no matter its pace. When asked, it called itself Za Warudo. 

The tiger of tigers, predator of predators, patriarch of a thousand-thousand hunters. The self-titled “true” divine beast. Unseen-Claws-Devour. Hao Ye. Hateful Hunter.

And of course, Raika herself. Seven-sided God of Beasts and Beast of Gods. She of a million scars, missing an eye, an arm and a leg, still standing, broken and unbroken, dead and undying.

And, much like the other Apexes, profoundly annoyed. 

“Listen. It’s not time yet. There’s just a few months left. I have this under control.”

Sky-Eater, whose shadow is a depthless stomach, hisses at her so loud that it makes her teeth ache half a continent away.

She takes a deep breath in, then out, pinching the bridge of her nose and focusing on the part of her that’s enjoying a good smoke right now. Then, with a smile, she matches her gaze to her fellow Divine Beast. 

“You do that one more time, I’m going to tie you in a knot and shove you up your own cloaca.”

The sky-snake blinks. The tiger emits a burst of amusement, which is almost enough to get it to react before Many-Mouths intercedes again.

“Calm.”

The Apexes all grumble at each other, but for a moment longer, violence is withheld. 

“So you’re saying that you didn’t just provoke the Emperor into action against you, thereby forcing all of us to engage early?” Po, the Corpse-Martyr, asks, fanning himself with a fan of fancy leaves and roses. She’s pretty sure he’s doing it specifically to annoy her, but she has no real evidence of it, so he just keeps getting away with it, for now. 

“Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying.”

“Then who’s that?”

“Hello!” comes a voice from behind her. 

It’s a mental space, which means that she moves exactly as fast as the thought it would take to incite said movement. Instantaneously, she’s facing the intruder into the shared mental space reserved and created for just the members of the Pack, the beasts so powerful they shake the world. 

There, sitting at the wooden table she set out, holding a cup of mud that she gave him, is a person in tan robes and flowing iridescent hair, fine as silk. 

“I’m Tao Zudong. Perhaps you’ve heard of my writings?”

“Oh! I have, actually,” says the Corpse Martyr, his tone altogether too light for the situation. 

Raika takes a moment longer to respond. Showing weakness in front of the Apexes is quite literally like showing weakness to a predator, like bleeding in the water with sharks on the horizon. The surprise she’s shown now is already probably too much. 

“I thought I implied that you should wait,” she tells the intruder Tao Zudong. 

“Well, you did imply it,” the philosopher agrees. “However, I have often found implication to be altogether inferior to the clarity of proper communication, and for that, I often prefer the words of language. Some might argue that this is far too limiting, but I counter that if one cannot express themselves through a limited format, then one has neither comprehended nor mastered themselves. A ‘skill issue’, as one might say.”

“WHO IS?” snarls Sky-Eater. 

The rest of the Pack, thankfully, stay still and ready, letting the brutish member of the Apexes take the heat and incite rather than risking themselves. 

“This is Tao Zudong,” Raika says. “They’re a new player, someone I’m negotiating with. And part of the reason why I was very clear that we should not be moving now.”

Ignoring the philosopher for now, she turns, glaring at the Pack’s greatest beasts. “A few more months. On the festival. As we planned. Move now, and neither the Morae nor what we’ve taken of the Kingdom will be ready. We wait until the critical moment to strike rather than blundering out into the open field where all can see us.”

“Well I know that,” Says Po, ever the sassy bastard. “As for everyone else…”

The peerless, perfect, flawless woman seated upon equally perfect furs titters, her laugh too good to be true. “I understand the value of proper patience,” she says, coquettishly hiding her mouth behind a hand. 

“As Can I”, says the Hateful Hunter, ever-eager to express its dominance. 

“As Can I,” Za Warudo says, the words arriving before its mouth starts moving and at the exact same instant as Hu Ye’s proclamation, much to the tiger’s annoyance. 

“HUNGRY!” yowls the false dragon.

“Bck-Buckaw!” says the chicken, which shuts the dragon right the fuck up as it diverts its focus entirely to the little feathery beast across the chamber. 

“It Is Decided,” Many Mouths proclaims. “We Wait. Not Much Longer.”

“Not much longer,” Raika agrees. “Especially with the mess you’ve just made, I’m not sure Morae will be willing to hold back much longer either.”

“Well, that is what you’re for, lovely beast,” says the too-perfect woman. “To distract the lessers and guide their steel to where it should best be placed. Unless you think yourself incapable?”

Raika almost hesitates in answering, her brain stuttering at hearing that many words from the Final Fox. Too perfect. Dissonant. It makes every other sound seem wrong, lesser, makes the world seem tilted incorrectly on an invisible axis– but she’s dealt with worse before, and for all her posturing, it’s not a true attack. Just a question. 

A question from someone too-perfect– and it’s enough to almost shake a being that spans continents. A reminder of the power of another Apex, and why Raika is first among equals, not first above others. 

“It’s not my job to deal with overeager children, but proper beasts,” she retorts. “You keep to your end, I’ll keep to mine. We will have the Empire on a platter before the END arrives, and we will make of what’s left something new.”

Another little titter, sending a shiver through all of Raika, even the parts without nerves.

“We Will Wait, As Is Proper.”

The words come from nowhere and everywhere, and sound like the grinding of tectonic plates. Za Warudo’s mouth is still, its Intent as placid as a lake’s surface– but a few minutes ago, it had seemed like it was speaking something, but without sound. The sound displaced itself to now? Did it know ahead of time what it would say, or did the sound always exist here, independently of when the words were spoken?

First among equals, not first above all.

“Quite! Well spoken, great one!” says Tao Zudong from behind her, raising their cup in a salute.

Right. That.

“Alright! With that resolved, can everyone fuck back off somewhere else? Keep readying yourselves. When it does happen, it’ll happen all at once. So go.”

And they do. The mental space empties, losing weight and meaning until it’s nonexistent again. First to leave is Sky-Eater, ever-impatient, followed by Ayaka, then the tiger-of-tigers. Many-Mouths shifts several million micro-expressions of exhaustion and gratitude before vanishing. Po the Corpse Martyr nods at her, turning to face the part of her that he was speaking with earlier rather than this amalgamation of the whole.

The last to leave is Za Warudo. Its face, simultaneously that of an almost artistic representation of a turtle and a massive cliff of stone, trees and water, is locked on the figure behind her. 

It opens its mouth, turning its eyes to Raika’s, and says something. But there is no sound, no Intent, no anything. 

And then the last Apex is gone. 

She turns around, recentering herself towards the only other being here.

“How the fuck are you here?” she asks.

There was no intrusion. No Qi use back where her mortal body lies. No shift of reality, no alteration of underlying principles, nothing she can recognize. 

Tao Zudong tilts their head in confusion. 

“Well, we are in conversation,” the philosopher says. “Dialogue is between us. Communication is ongoing. Where else would I be, if not where that conflict of ideas remains true?”

Oh that is insufferable.

“A Truth, then?” 

They shrug. “Somewhat. Sort of. It’s been called a few things, though by the intonation, I assume what you refer to is similar to what I knew it as. We had rather ruder terms for it back in my day, though. But perhaps the lesson can wait for another time, no? We have another participant to this dialogue, after all.”

Raika’s attention focuses and unfocuses, redividing herself amongst her identities and projects, and realizes what the Philosopher means. 

They’ve just been talking. The whole time. Every word they’ve said has been clear as day to the Feng, even if Raika’s just been sitting there quietly. 

Because of course the one thing missing was this. An Emperor or higher that seems to think all information is to be laid out and shared and thought through, while her enemy is at the table.

Back in her mortal body, Raika sighs, taking a swig of her mud, then a long, heavy pull of her pipe. 

“Alright, you insufferable fucks. Fine. Let’s deal with this, now, because I didn’t have enough bullshit going on.”

And that’s the moment that Jin decides to burst through the treeline into the clearing, manifesting from whispers and smoke right back into her headache.